Left at the Altar
by Jenny UsPplz
Summary: We don’t hear much about Cinderella’s dream wedding. We just know it happened. For her, that’s just the problem: it didn’t.
1. Default Chapter

Left at the Altar

Ch. 1: Gone

Disclaimer: I don't own Cinderella. Duh.

NOTE: I don't remember the stepmother's or stepsisters' names, so I renamed them. :D

Cinderella gleamed as she looked into the mirror. _This is the day. **This is the day. This is the day!**_ She squealed from excitement as she jumped up and down in her five inch heels, nearly breaking her neck.

"Calm down, woman!" her dressmaker spouted through her enormous red lips.

Even the evil dressmaker her stepmother had hired couldn't darken her day. She smiled inside as she twirled in front of her full-length mirror. Her puffy, blue-white dress glittered and sparkled with her every move. The Prince had had it specially made for her to match the exact dress she was wearing to the ball, where they met.

"My gosh!" she whispered to herself, "Today… I'M GETTING MARRIED!" She squealed and hopped around the room gleefully, holding her dress up to make sure it wouldn't get torn. Cinderella flopped down onto the royal blue couch, leaving her dressmaker ripping at the seams, "If you tear that blasted dress one more time, I swear…"

"Oh, but you shouldn't swear to the future QUEEN! QUEEN! Can you believe it? After Prince Charming is dubbed King, I'll be QUEEN!" Cinderella had never felt happier in her entire life. Her mind swirled with emotion, leaving her dizzy and overwhelmingly joyful at the same time. _Me… Queen… this is just too good to be true!_

It's too bad that it was.

"Lalalalala!" A woman gleefully sang as she sauntered through the halls of her dark and gloomy castle.

"Oh, shut up, mother! How can you be so happy! Cinderella is getting married! MARRIED! Oh stop singing like you don't hear me, you stupid…" Clarissa trailed off, leaving her mother, who was still singing horribly of tune.

Ms. Snow continued her singing, and then glanced at a clock on the wall. _Cinderella should be waiting at the altar right about… now…_ An evil grin spread across her face, _Poor girl. Oh well…_

Waiting outside of the church impatiently, Cinderella was nearly hyperventilating as the two men pushed back the tall oak doors, revealing the inside of the church to her. She gasped aloud._ I'm getting married right now! I'm getting married right now! I'm getting mar—_OOF!

She stopped as an arm held her back. She turned abruptly to see who it was, "King Arthur? Why—"

"Just… Just come with me dear. We have… a problem—"

"Can it wait? I'm getting married—" She thought King Arthur was little illogical, but she didn't think he'd be so dense as to stop a wedding for a small issue!

"Trust me; nobody out there is expecting you any time soon."

"What?"

"Just—Let's talk in private…" He gently led Cinderella away from the red carpet. Cinderella felt muddled inside, _Why on Earth would he stop a wedding? His son's wedding, no less!_

The King stopped at a door, pulled out a key, and invited Cinderella to enter. She followed his lead, with some doubt.

"Sir, I don't believe that—"

"Just sit down. Please. It's—This is really hard for me." She listened and then gracefully took her seat next to the His Majesty.

He quietly took his seat and began, "Well—You see—Er—I really don't know how to tell you this... I don't want you to—Here take this tissue box first." He handed her a box of tissues, and then carefully proceeded with his explanation, "Prince Charming—

"He—Er—Is—He…" The King took an extra deep breath, and said the next words very slowly. "He's… not… here."

"What?" Cinderella gasped, shocked and confused. "Where is he?"

"He's… gone…" The King tried to sound comforting.

"GONE?" Cinderella felt dumbfounded. She felt stunned. She felt like a deer caught in headlights.

Or a girl left at the altar.


	2. The Aftermath

The Aftermath

Ch. 1: Gone

Disclaimer: I don't own Cinderella. Duh.

NOTE: I don't remember the stepmother's or stepsisters' names, so I renamed them. :D

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"CINDY-ELLA!" Drusilla cried, "ARE YOU DONE IRONING MY DRESS YET!"

"NO!" Cinderella yelled back, as she furiously smashed the iron onto the purple frilly dress, burning it a little bit. _I was going to be Queen! Not stuck with these stupid, horrid—_

"OH, CINDY-ELLA! ARE YOU DONE **_NOW?_**" Drusilla whined.

Cinderella gripped the iron and shouted back, "ALMOST!" She roughly ironed the dress, fighting the urge to burn a hole through it. _She can't even say my name correctly, that boogerish… _

It was only a week after Prince Charming had runaway from the altar, and already Cinderella's—or like Drusilla liked to call her, Cindy-ella's— stepsister's were piling jobs onto her. And if the was-to-be queen was correct, there was suddenly even more work than before. Rather than just cooking, cleaning, doing laundry, feeding the animals, cleaning the barn, and waiting on the stepsisters, she now had to do all of these tasks and run to the market every other day. Her only help was the tiny mice that ran around, helping her clean, everyday. They had even lured the family's bothersome cat into the woods, never to be seen again, saving Cinderella hours of cleaning up after the feline.

Cinderella practically cried herself to sleep every night. She hated it. Hated it. She was constantly thinking about running away; she thought up all of these daring plans to get away from the dark castle, but she never had the nerve to even attempt to escape.

_I'll never be able to get away! I just wish my fairy godmother were here to—_

"Oh, stop it!" a voice behind her Cindy-ella cried.

She whirled around, "Oh, fairy godmother! Oh, thank goodness you're here! All of this horrid stuff has happened and you won't believe it but the prince ran away and so now I'm stuck here and it's horrible and my stepmother is a **_witch_** with a capitol 'B'—"

"I said 'Stop it!'" Her fairy godmother flicked her wand, and suddenly Cinderella felt her lips zipped shut.

"Mphmph!" Cindy-ella struggled to free her lips.

Her godmother sighed, as she put her wand in the pocket of her sky blue overcoat, "How many times have I told you? I can't— No, I won't do your work for you! It's your turn to do something! Last time, I drained all of my magic power getting you to that ball in that fancy-shmancy dress, and all you do is get left at the altar!"

Cinderella looked despairingly at the fairy, _I'm doomed! Doomed to live a horrible life…_

"I said STOP IT! ARGH!" the godmother flicked her wand again, and Cinderella felt like a brick wall had been put up in her brain. She couldn't even think properly!

"I can hear your thoughts, and trust me, _I'm sick of hearing them._ All you do is whine, whine, whine! My gosh!"

The fairy godmother continued her rant, and Cinderella had no choice but to listen. She didn't have enough brain power to shut out her godmother's tirade.

"So—"

"OH, CINDERELLA!" Cinderella heard Clarissa's voice calling for her. "I NEED MY KNICKERS IRONED!"

The godmother mentally winced, and turned around to find Cinderella trying to get away. She calmly twirled her wand, undoing the bonds on Cinderella's mind and mouth. She then flicked her wrist, teleporting Cinderella in front of her.

"Now, ahem. If I heard correctly, you want to run away."

Cinderella nodded.

"Well… Do you have a plan?"

Cinderella looked at her feet, "Well, yes. But it won't work. I just know it won't."

The fairy pried into Cinderella's thoughts. _Get out… Over the hill… Back…_

"You're right! This simply won't do!" The godmother suddenly exclaimed, only half way through reading the plan. She pursed her lips, trying to think of a solution, "Well… I refuse to do this for you… But I do have an idea… and I wouldn't have to do any of the work—"

"CINDERELLA!" Clarissa interrupted again.

Cinderella turned around and called back, "I'M COMING!" She turned to look at her godmother, "I'll see you tomorrow. Bye!" She picked up the hem of her skirt and rushed to help Clarissa iron her knickers. She called back, ""We'll meet at the market at noon tomorrow!"

The godmother nodded in return. _Wait… the market? _The fairy mentally gulped. _Of all of the places!_

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